


this one goes out to the one i've left behind

by shuuuliet



Series: maybe this is where it ends (or, the dec-ision) [2]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Breaking up is hard to do, Episode: s05e09 One Maybe Two Ways Out, Episode: s05e10 Extradition II: The Actual Extradition Part, F/M, First Kiss, Shawn and Juliet kissed and now everything is kind of a mess, anxious Jules, goodbye declan, guilty Jules, i hate Declan but damn it he's a good dude, in which Juliet has to have the "it's-not-you-it's-me" convo with Declan, jules has a lot of FEELINGS ok, poor jules honestly, season 5, she just wants to be with Shawn but it's always so damn complicated, the pre-canada convo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuuliet/pseuds/shuuuliet
Summary: Juliet is dating Declan, and it’s going fine. Well, it was until yesterday…when, in the heat of the moment, she kissed Shawn in the foyer of Declan’s house. Now she has to somehow find the words to explain all of this to Declan, or else she might miss her chance to be with Shawn for good.Takes place between 5x09: "One, Maybe Two, Ways Out" and 5x10: "Extradition II: The Actual Extradition Part".
Relationships: Juliet O'Hara/Declan Rand, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Series: maybe this is where it ends (or, the dec-ision) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038192
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	this one goes out to the one i've left behind

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, I don’t own Psych, Juliet, Shawn, Lassiter, Declan, or anyone else, although it’d be fun if I did! 
> 
> The title of this piece comes from R.E.M.’s “The One I Love” (1987), which I also do not own.
> 
> I've always wondered what the conversation between Declan and Juliet was like after she kissed Shawn in Declan's foyer, so I thought I'd give writing it a shot!

Juliet parked her car in front of the old, rundown donut shop a few blocks from the police station. It didn’t look like much on the outside—the sign needed repainting, and the windows could use a good wash—but there was something about it that was comforting to her, and she needed that comfort now.

It was stupid and cliché, and she wanted to roll her eyes at the very _thought_ of it—the cop in the donut shop--but nothing grounded her quite like the bitter, crappy donut shop coffee. Maybe it was because she and Carlton always grabbed some before a long stakeout, when her nerves and adrenaline were already in overdrive, but it had a way of soothing her anxiety, and she needed that now.

Quickly, she grabs her coffee, trying to keep her mind from racing as she does so. It’s strange that she’s using _caffeine_ , of all things, to soothe her nerves, but even just the warm cup in her hands feels like an anchor, making her feel a little less afraid.

It was nice to have the task of getting coffee to concentrate on, but once she returns to her car, worry overtakes her again. She only has half an hour before she’s supposed to meet Declan, and she still doesn’t know what she’s going to say. She was just beginning to process all of it herself, after all. It was a lot to take in. All these years of dancing and running and coming so close, only to turn around and run away again, and she was finally ready to go for it. _They_ were finally ready to go for it.

Somehow, that didn’t exactly seem like the right thing to say to Declan, she thought, snorting. Like Declan was just supposed to find the whole thing very touching? Fat chance. He was a good guy—a wonderful guy—but _this_ kind of conversation was never easy, and certainly wouldn’t be made easier by an explanation that she had always been in love with someone else, from the very beginning.

And she was really torn on how, exactly, to explain it to him. Should she tell him that she’d kissed Shawn? She grinned at the very thought of that kiss. She didn’t know what it was that had finally made her give into that urge, which, after all, had plagued her for the better part of five years.

But there had been so many things in that moment—the way Shawn was looking at her, like his heart was breaking, and yet, she could see the love in his eyes still. They never lost their warmth, even as she could see that the words that were coming out of his mouth were killing him. But he’d kept talking anyway, which wasn’t all that surprising—when did he _ever_ stop talking? He kept trying to encourage her, trying to let her go, even while his eyes were begging her not to leave.

She kept thinking about what he’d said to Gus, the day before, the conversation she hadn’t meant to overhear. He couldn’t be happy without her. And, the longer she spent with Declan—poor Declan, he really _did_ deserve better—the more she realized that she couldn’t be happy without him, either. Not _really_.

Because, if she thought about it, Declan had been so good to her. He was warm and loving and kind, and he was constantly doing sweet, thoughtful things, like leaving a grapefruit for her on her bedside table and then denying responsibility, or planning surprise ways to make her feel special, little trips or excursions that he just thought she might enjoy at the end of a long week.

But in the end, Shawn was always going to get in the way. There was no way around that; there never had been. Nothing Declan did could make her happy enough to forget him. And she’d _tried_ to forget him. She _wanted_ to forget him at first, when she realized it had been five years and she didn’t know how much longer she could let her heart keep wanting and wanting him with no reprieve in sight.

Perhaps that was what had taken over in that moment in the foyer. All the _want_ , which had been building and building for years—quickly at times, on nights in darkened stations with no one else around, or after days of fear and tension while chasing after a serial killer; and slowly on other days, when he said something funny just for her benefit or looked at her just _so_ , as if he’d never seen anything quite like her and wanted to memorize every detail, the look in his hazel eyes admiring and soft. Lately, it had seemed to all be fast--every time their hands brushed against one another accidentally, or when he would take a moment just to stare at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention--it felt like she would collapse from how overwhelming the rush of desire was, to take his hand, pull him towards her, kiss him just as passionately as she had that day at Declan’s.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss. Yes, she felt guilty, terribly guilty, especially when Declan had pulled her towards him immediately afterward, kissing her on the cheek. But it was hard to really let the guilt take hold when everything else about that moment had been so perfect, so _right_ , every part of her screaming out, “ _finally, finally”_.

She hadn’t known, before that, just how much could be communicated in a single kiss—she could feel it, there with him, all of it. His surprise at first, almost shaky, hesitant, as though he couldn’t possibly believe that it was happening, especially after he’d just tried so hard to let her go. But when he’d finally responded, in movements so gentle and slow it made her heart ache, it felt like he was trying to say everything to her, all at once, everything he’d already said to Gus, telling her just how important this was— _she_ was—to him, reminding her that she hadn’t been the only one waiting, all without a single word passing between them.

There wasn’t time for talking, of course, not when the passion and the emotions of five years were finally coming to a head. She could feel the relief in both of them, and yet, under it all, there was heartbreak. Because even as she stood there kissing him, finally getting to run her fingers through his hair, feel the stubble on his cheeks against her palms, feel the warmth of the weight of his hands on her waist, she had made no decision, and neither had he. Just a moment before, after all, she’d been excusing herself to go shopping for a two-week vacation with the boyfriend that was very much not him.

But she thinks maybe she knew in that moment—heartbreak aside—that she wasn’t going to go. She _couldn’t_ go, not when kissing Declan had felt nothing like this, not when she knew so very well that despite everything, she was in love with Shawn, and she had been for so long, she hardly knew any other way to be anymore.

And yet, she still, now, in _this_ moment, didn’t know how to say any of that, didn’t know whether it was even the right thing to explain to Declan what had happened. She didn’t want to throw Shawn under the bus—it was _she_ , the one _in the relationship_ , that had kissed him, after all, not the other way around—and she wasn’t even sure it would do any good to provide a full explanation of the situation, not that Declan didn’t deserve one.

It’s just that, for _many_ reasons, she couldn’t imagine the hurt of the realization that while you were buying a thirty-million-euro hotel just so your girlfriend could have a perfect vacation, said girlfriend was downstairs, _in your house_ , kissing another man. She sighed at the thought. It didn’t look good from any angle. Being in love with Shawn wasn’t a good excuse for what she’d done, even though she hadn’t meant to do it—it had just happened in the moment, five years of buildup finally erupting. Wouldn’t telling him what had happened just exacerbate the pain of it, for Declan? In any other situation, she never would have treated anyone like this, and even though being with Shawn was the right thing—it _had_ to be—the thought of what she’d done to Declan almost turned her stomach.

Oh, this was useless. Even the donut shop coffee didn’t help; on the contrary, her anxiety seemed to be building by the minute. She had known what she had done as soon as she’d stepped back from Shawn, the guilt and pain of it washing over her, almost overcoming her when Declan had come downstairs towards her. And she deserved to feel that guilt. She deserved to have to face the reality of what she did, whether she told Declan the full truth or not, because it wasn’t fair to him.

She took another sip of coffee, leaning her head back against the headrest of her seat and closing her eyes. She was still torn in so many ways; every decision that she made seemed to be followed by a series of other decisions that she hadn’t foreseen, hadn’t even known that she would _need_ to make.

She hadn’t talked to Shawn since that day at Declan’s, and she didn’t know what to say to him. In some sense, she’d said everything, in that moment they’d shared. But she _also_ knew she couldn’t talk to him until she’d broken up with Declan, afraid that if she did, the want would build up in her again and she might have one more thing to feel guilty about. And yet, she needed to talk to him. She needed to know what that moment had meant to him, what he was thinking now. He had never known that she’d overheard his conversation with Gus, after all, and so he’d never actually told _her_ that he wanted to be with her. His interpretation of that moment could be completely different, after all—he could have seen it as a goodbye, a final letting go, like the one he’d been trying to give her. He could be running away again, right this very moment.

She had seen the sadness in his eyes after she pulled away, after all, had felt the sadness in his kiss. She hadn’t told him she wanted to leave Declan, and thus, there was no way for him to know.

She groaned in frustration. What if, after all of that, they just went back to the way they’d always been? For the first time, she knew for sure that Shawn felt exactly as she did; she no longer had to waste any time wondering if her feelings were unrequited, and yet, they might not have actually made any movement towards being together. After all, if she was with Declan, Shawn would never _really_ get in the way of that—he wasn’t that kind of guy, and his speech to her in the foyer had proved that.

Yes, she had kissed him— _finally,_ she had kissed him—and it changed everything for her, solidifying that she couldn’t stay with Declan, that she didn’t even know if she could spend one more _second_ not being with Shawn, when it felt so good to be in his arms after five years of hoping, but that didn’t mean that all the obstacles had gone away. She had to talk to Declan, and then she had to talk to Shawn.

She puts her keys in the ignition and starts her car. It’s time. She can’t put it off any longer. She turns on the radio as she drives to Declan’s house, hoping to distract herself, but she doesn’t hear a word of the music that’s playing. Her anxiety continues to increase. She may be getting closer to getting the whole thing over with, but she can’t stop visualizing how hurt Declan will be, and the guilt makes her want to be sick.

Declan’s there at the front door to meet her, because he’s perfect and of _course_ he is. Immediately, he embraces her, leaning down to kiss her.

She turns her head at the last moment, so his lips meet her cheek instead of her mouth. He looks surprised for a moment, but says nothing, releasing her and walking towards the kitchen. “Coffee?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Just had some. And I can’t stay long, I just…had something to tell you.”

Declan’s half listening, his back to her as he searches the fridge for cream to put in his coffee. “Oh, yeah. You said there was something. What’s up?”

“Um…could we maybe sit down?” she asks. As tempting as it is to not have to look at his face while she tells him what she’s done, it’s not fair to him. And she has _got_ to stop being unfair to him.

He closes the fridge door, looking a little confused. “Sure. Let me put some cream in my coffee and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

She waits for him in the living room—well, _one_ of the living rooms—and nervously picks at her nail polish. This is it, and she _still_ doesn’t feel ready, doesn’t know what to say to him.

Finally, Declan comes in, sitting across from her. She gives him a tight smile. He looks confused. “Are you okay, Bunny?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m…fine. Mostly. Just a lot on my mind.”

He smiles encouragingly. “Okay, so what’s this thing you needed to tell me?”

She takes a deep breath, her brain still trying to work out exactly where to begin, how to say this. “Declan, I can’t—I can’t go to Italy with you,” she says. There it is—the first step. If only the first step really _was_ going to be the hardest.

He doesn’t understand. “I thought you said Chief Vick _did_ give you the two weeks off? Has some crazy serial killer come back to town or something?”

“It’s not that,” she says, and oh, she _wishes_ it was that. Well, not that she wishes another serial killer was around, but those words are somehow so much easier to say than the ones she actually _needs_ to say. “It’s, uh, not actually a work thing at all?”

“Huh,” he says, and then, like a lightbulb appearing over the top of his head, he smiles, “oh, I understand! Bunny, I forgot to explain this to you— _I’m_ not actually flying us to Italy. That’s way too far for a new pilot. We’re going commercial,” he stops for a second. “Well, not _commercial_ , exactly, we’re still taking a private plane, of course, but it’s a commercial pilot; you don’t have to be scared of me flying us to Italy, I wouldn’t risk that just yet.”

She almost laughs, but now isn’t really the time to be laughing, and she doesn’t want to take the mood in such a different direction, especially when Declan’s already pushing it to bordering on absurd.

“It’s not that--,” she starts.

He frowns for a second, and then his eyes seem to light up again. He’s clearly come up with something else. “Oh, well—.”

“Um, maybe you could just…stop guessing?” she asks, cutting him off before he can propose another idea. “I’m sorry, I just really need to get this out and I don’t know how to say it.”

He nods. “Sure, of course, sorry.”

She almost winces at the word “sorry” coming out of him. God, she’s a horrible person for doing this to him. But her mind goes back to that moment again, the way she can still feel what it was like, Shawn’s lips on hers, her hands cupping his face, and—as awful as it is—it is enough to encourage her to move forward with this.

“Um, I can’t go to Italy with you, Declan, because I—I--,” she falters, looking away from his curious, expectant eyes.

He tries to reassure her. “It’s all right, Juliet. You don’t have to go to Italy, we don’t have to go, we’ll do something else--.”

“I’m—I’m breaking up with you,” she blurts out.

“What?”

She sighs, puts her head in her hands for a second. This was _so not_ the gentle breakup she’d had planned. Lifting her head up, she tries again, much softer this time. “I’m so sorry, Dec, I just—I can’t do this.”

He looks hurt, as expected, but that worries her, since this part was probably the least hurtful part of the whole thing. “Was it something I did?” he asks. “Are we moving too fast? I never meant to pressure you, we can slow things down--.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not that,” she says. “It’s nothing you’ve done or didn’t do. You’ve been so wonderful to me, and I want to be able to make you happy, and be happy with you, but I can’t. I’m—I’m in love with someone else, and that’s not your fault, and it’s not fair to you.”

She watches the realization wash over Declan’s face. “It’s Shawn,” he says, slowly, quietly, “isn’t it?”

She nods slowly. “It was—I felt this way before you, but I thought I should move on. And then you came along, and you were so great, and so kind, and _perfect_. I mean, have you seen your eyelashes?”

He chuckles, and that clears her head. “Right, sorry. Not the time. But I wanted to move on with you, I really did. It’s just that Shawn and I—there’s too much there. I’ve had those feelings for too long. And I’m so sorry.”

He chuckles again. “You know what, I wish that I could say I’m surprised,” he says. “But I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Juliet, and I gotta be honest, I wondered how long I’d be able to compete with that. I noticed it the very first day I met you.”

“You did?” She feels the familiar thrill of hope that comes whenever she thinks about Shawn rising up in her, but she tries to push it down. _Focus, O’Hara_. _Stop thinking about him for like, one second._

He sighs. “Of course. I notice things, you know that. But I wouldn’t have even had to have _any_ observational skills to see what was going on there. I just didn’t know it was requited.”

She nods. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know he felt the same way until…well, recently, and I didn’t ever want to hurt you.”

Declan frowns. “When did you know?”

“A few days ago. I sort of…overheard a conversation between him and Gus,” she says. “I wasn’t supposed to overhear; Shawn didn’t—doesn’t—even know that I did. But he still had the wire on him. It was the night we arrested Nadia. And Carlton made me stay in the van, so I was still listening in on Shawn’s wire, since I couldn’t see what was going on with the arrest.”

Declan looks bewildered. “He confessed his love for you to Gus in the middle of Nadia’s arrest?”

Juliet laughs. She’d never really considered how _absurd_ —although, how very _Shawn_ —it was, since she’d been too focused on the shock of it. “Yes—well, no, not _during_ the arrest. We’d already gotten Nadia, but I’d forgotten to take the headset off, and I guess Shawn forgot he was wearing the wire. It…well, not that it matters, but Nadia made a move on him, and Gus was surprised he didn’t take her up on it--.”

“Gus was surprised Shawn said no to _the criminal they just arrested_?”

Juliet can’t help it, she laughs again. “Gosh, I forgot how little time you’ve spent with Shawn and Gus. Or, I guess I forgot how very bizarre this kind of thing is to anyone who’s _not_ used to them. Anyway, Nadia wasn’t really a criminal. I told you how that all worked out, remember?”

Declan nods distractedly, and Juliet realizes she still hasn’t said the more important parts. Damn it.

“ _Anyway_ , Shawn said he couldn’t go through with it with her…because of me. And he wanted me to be happy, so he didn’t want to do anything to mess up what you and I had, but he just told Gus that he couldn’t imagine his future without me.”

Declan nods slowly. “I see. And he didn’t know you were listening?”

She shakes her head. “No, I never told him. I still haven’t told him.” It’s technically not a lie, since she didn’t exactly _say_ anything to Shawn, although she did give him a pretty good message.

Declan looks thoughtful, and then his eyes seem to narrow for a second. “But then—that day he was here, and he was downstairs with you while Gus was watching me bid on the hotel in Amalfi?”

Juliet swallows. “Right. Well—that day was…” she hesitates, still unsure how to put it into words.

“Was?”

She takes a deep breath. “That was the day after…everything—Nadia, that conversation with Gus, the whole bit. I didn’t expect Shawn to be here; I hadn’t spoken to him since I overheard that conversation, and I didn’t know what I was going to do with it.”

Declan looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t…at first, I wasn’t planning to do anything about it. When I ran into Shawn that day, right here in the entryway of your house, I was heading out to go shopping for the trip. I wasn’t planning on saying anything to him or anything like that, I was just taken by surprise.”

Declan frowned. “But you said you still didn’t talk to Shawn about this?”

She shakes her head, trying to stay on track. “No, no, I didn’t. I never told Shawn that I’d heard what he said. But I—well—I got kind of caught up in the moment. See, Shawn told me to have a great trip, to make memories with you, and to be happy.”

Declan is looking at her, still frowning, but trying to understand. She looks down at her hands again.

“I want you to know that Shawn didn’t do this—didn’t cause this,” she says, uncertainly.

“It kind of sounds like he did,” Declan says. “I mean, based on everything you just told me.”

“No, no,” she says. “This was all me. Shawn was letting me go, I could see it. He was just wishing me well, he wasn’t asking for anything from me. And he had no idea that I knew how he felt. He was just trying to let me move on.”

She takes another deep breath, hesitating again. “But I could see that it was killing him, and knowing what he had said the night before, and knowing I’d been trying to get over him after being in love with him for so long, I just got caught up in the moment. I—I kissed him. And it was wrong, and it wasn’t fair to you, or to him, and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m so, so sorry.”

Declan looks stunned. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just leans back in his chair slowly. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Then, finally, he asks, “ _you_ kissed _him_?”

“Yes.”

“In my house?”

She hangs her head. “Yes. And I’m so sorry, Declan, you didn’t deserve this. I’m not the kind of person that does this; I’ve felt so guilty ever since. There’s no excuse for what I did, it’s _never_ okay to do that to someone. Especially not someone like you.”

He shakes his head, staying silent for a long moment.

“Declan?” she asks softly, finally.

He looks at her at last, and he’s _smiling_. “You know, in a weird way, this sort of makes sense,” he says finally.

“Huh?”

“I could tell something was off that day. I remember the two of you were looking so strangely at each other when I came downstairs, and then you were…different. Quieter, afterward. I figured you were just tired, or maybe I was coming on a little strong, with buying the hotel and everything, but now this makes sense.”

“It wasn’t you,” she says. “Oh, you have to know that.”

He raises his eyebrows but says nothing.

“Declan, I need you to know that none of this is your fault,” she says more firmly, leaning towards him. “You didn’t do anything wrong; you were so wonderful to me. It’s just that I went into this because I was running away, and I know that wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. I just think I might be ready to stop running.”

He doesn’t say anything again for a moment, and the guilt is eating away at her. Finally, he smiles again. “You know, when I first met Shawn, it was kind of fun to beat him to the punch at everything,” he says.

She can’t hide her surprise. “What?”

He waves his hand. “Oh, I knew who he was. I’d read all the articles, I’d done my research. I actually beat him at a coffee shop trivia question, although that was accidental. And then I was hoping to solve the case before him, but you know how that turned out. And then I--,” he paused, looking hesitant.

Juliet looks down at her hands again, hoping that not looking at him will give him the courage to say whatever it is that’s on his mind, giving him pause.

Declan continues. “I beat him to the punch, one last time, that day that I told you I was a fraud…and also very rich. You remember that he asked you to take a walk with him?”

She thinks for a moment, remembering. Of _course_! She’d never circled back to that with Shawn, the news from Declan putting it out of her mind altogether. And then after that, she’d been dating Declan, and it had all happened so fast…

“I forgot all about that,” she breathed.

He nods. “I was banking on that. He would have told you how he felt, that day, but I got there first.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “You mean, you knew—all this time?”

He nods. “I’m not angry with you, Juliet. You were reacting to something you should’ve known a long time ago. Something you _would_ have known, had I not intervened. And I guess it serves me right. It feels a little like justice, you know? That, in the end, he beat me, one last time, even though I almost took this from him.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “You know,” she says, “you really are an amazing guy, Declan.”

He shrugs modestly, gesturing to the house around him. “Well, I can’t let people think I’m compensating for something.”

She laughs, standing up, feeling a million pounds lighter. “I’m going to miss you,” she says.

He laughs, too. “Nah, you won’t. Shawn was right—you deserve to be happy. And you will be.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Declan. And I really am sorry, you know. About everything.”

He laughs, getting up to walk her to the door. “I’ll be fine. And you know what? I think I _will_ go see about my hotel.”

She smiles. “You should, you deserve it.”

He opens the door for her. “Good luck, Juliet,” he says, kissing her on the cheek.

She steps away, turning towards him for one last look. “’Bye, Declan.”

And then she’s walking out the door, away from him, away from guilt, the Santa Barbara sun warming her back. She _will_ be happy.

It’s time to go see about Shawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I never liked the idea of Declan being a bad guy; I always felt like he would’ve taken the breakup really well, even though he was clearly getting kind of serious about Juliet. So that’s how I portrayed him here. As an aside, this is a much easier breakup than any *I've* ever gone through, so Declan really is a great dude, lol.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! As always, I would love to know any thoughts you have on this piece! Thanks so very much to those of you that leave comments and kudos on my work—it always means the absolute world to me! 
> 
> The penultimate chapter of my six-part Shules piece, “time after time” is coming this Saturday, so have a look at that if you’d like too! Enjoy your week!


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